I drink my coffee slowly, hoping you’re sitting across from me, because coffee tastes kinder when it’s shared. We drink together, cups close, fingers relaxed, talking about nothing and somehow everything. But if you’re not here, it’s just me and the steam, me and this quiet table, me thinking of you between every sip. The coffee is still warm, but it feels a little lonely, like it’s waiting too. (Melody) But if you’re not here, it’s just me and the steam, me and this quiet table, me thinking of you between every sip. So come back soon, because coffee is better when I don’t have to imagine you...
